Three Years
by PaperFrames
Summary: /Bright baby blues stare back at her and Olivia tries her damnedest to deny the hold that those Betty Davis eyes on her. She came here to yell, to throw a fit like a petulant child and have it out on the behalf of her stitched together heart, but with one look she's failing fast./ AO set in season 10 after Alex's return. One shot.


**A/N:** Just a quick AO one shot I published ages ago on tumblr, recently found, and spruced up a tad. This came at the behest of a review on my other AO "Thirteen" where it was suggested that I write more. I love these two, so of course I had to take the lovely reviewer up on their suggestion.

I'll be updating my other story [EO] shortly. I'm also thinking of starting an AO chap fic, too, but will probably play with some AO oneshots first! This is slightly repetitive - on purpose. And it gets a bit steamy, but doesn't go too far.

Hope you enjoy.

-M

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing.

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**Three Years **

/_Time goes by so slowly for those who wait_/

"Three years," Olivia hisses as she slams the door to Alex's office shut so hard that the blinds bounce off the glass window.

"Three years and no word." She advances into the room with her hands on her hips and an expression on her countenance that reads _try me_.

"Three years," she repeats the words as if they're the hip new catch phrase all the heart broken and cynical middle-aged detectives are saying now a day.

"Three years and no word from you at all. Not one returned phone, email, or text. Not one 'Hey, Liv, I'm alive.'" Olivia rants, pacing the room, and wringing her hands together in frustration. Her golden brown locks bounce as she moves; anger wracks her frame, and threatens to spill from every inch of her body.

"Three. Fucking. Years. And yet you just breeze back into my life, as if nothing happened. As if I wasn't in the waiting room when you were pronounced dead. As if I we didn't make love in that hotel room the night before you testified against Connors. As if we never lov-" She doesn't finish her sentence and she's shaking now, burning with anger and hurt; resentment and need as she slams her hands down on Alex's desk.

Bright baby blues stare back at her and Olivia tries her damnedest to deny the hold that those Betty Davis eyes on her. She came here to yell, to throw a fit like a petulant child and have it out on the behalf of her stitched together heart, but with one look she's failing fast.

It's been three years and damn it all to hell if those Betty Davis eyes aren't her Achilles-heel.

_Fuck._

She's so damn torn.

Half of her wants to just smack the living piss out of Alex, in all honesty. Take that infuriating, yet indiscernible expression off of the blonde's face, as she sits behind her desk; name plate perched on the corner as if she'd been there all along and not just a couple of weeks; as if two people haven't occupied this space in her absence. The other half of Olivia, the part that she's afraid to admit exists, yearns to take Alex in her arms; to explore every inch of the blonde's body with her fingertips, lips, and tongue.

And Alex is just sitting there, staring and watching as she flails about like a mad woman.

Olivia lets out a breath that she didn't realize she was holding and licks her lips; digging her palms into the wood of the desk.

"Say something." The brunette implores, noting just how uncharacteristically quiet Alex is being and it irks her to no end. She wants the argument and the tears. She wants the fighting and the finger pointing, the screaming and name calling; anything to stop her from throwing caution to the wind and pouncing on the prosecutor right then and there . "Argue with me damn it."

Alex smirks, a stray piece of blonde hair falls into her face as she pushes her chair away from her desk, and then stands. Her heels resound against the hardwood floor and suddenly she's in front of Olivia, placing a hand on either side of the brunette's perfect hips. "Three. Years." She whispers coyly, in the detective's ear, causing the brunette to shudder and then spin in place, her back facing the chair Alex's just vacated. "Three years since …"

"Three years …" Olivia agrees and she accepts the fact that she's fucked in the metaphorical sense, and hopes it won't be long before its in the physical sense, as well. She can't lie to herself; part of her knew this would happen if she sought out the woman in front of her alone.

It happens in haste then. Olivia reaches forward; no longer able to deny the wetness that's started to pool between her thighs or the way her heart is threatening to beat straight out of her chest. Hungrily she seizes Alex's mouth, taking from it forcefully. Her hands tangle in the long blonde locks and yank, just hard enough to elicit a gruff moan from Alex's lips. Every inch of her body is on fire and she needs this; she needs Alex.

And it seems that Alex needs her too, as the lawyer's fingers begin to trail up Olivia's thighs. The nimble digits climb higher and higher until they've reached the coveted belt buckle of Olivia's jeans, and Olivia's legs part in anticipation, using the desk for support to keep herself vertical.

Buttons are undone, blouses opened, scratches are left, and hickeys made as the two women claw at each other in fleeting bursts of lust. They're torn between wanting to savior the moment and wanting to fuck each other in pure viscerally raw emotion.

"Three years," Olivia grates as she breaks their kiss; she's still perched against the desk, but the buttons on her blouse are undone now, and she's breathing heavy; her chest rising and falling in spurts. Her words are an accusation, a statement, anger; her fists are still tangled in Alex's silky long blonde locks; her lips are swollen, and her normally brown eyes are black with lust.

"Three years…" Alex repeats and her roaming hands still against the zipper of Olivia's jeans; her baby blues are heavy with lust as she attempts to focus on Olivia's dark eyes. She hears the accusation and the hurt in the brunette's voice. "And never once did I fall out of love with you."

The words rip right through the precariously placed stitches that hold Olivia's heart together, and a bittersweet smile falls across her face. Tears threaten to rise to the surface and she forces them back. How she's yearned to hear that phrase and those words her entire life. Yet, she can't return them, not now at least. Not when so much needs to be said; to be sorted through. So she settles with a smile as she hops onto the desk and hooks her legs around Alex's waist, pulling the blonde until they're pelvis-to-pelvis, and shucking off her blouse in the process. "Three years … never again, please …"

_Fin_


End file.
